


Spock gets hurt, Jim worries, Bones works miracles

by ErRose



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, McSpirk - Freeform, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Surgery, animal attack (non graphic)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25703146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErRose/pseuds/ErRose
Summary: Away missions can be stressful for the CMO, especially when he's married to the landing party.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Comments: 14
Kudos: 127





	Spock gets hurt, Jim worries, Bones works miracles

At some point, the pretense of each of them having their own quarters had been dropped. Officially, of course they still had their assigned rooms, but without mentioning it, Kirk had put in for a larger bed, Spock’s quarters had been turned into a living space with a large soft couch, and McCoy’s favorite possessions had slowly made their homes in the adjoining quarters. There were clear pieces of each of them throughout the rooms, so seemingly disconnected with each other, yet somehow created a harmony of design and a sense of a peaceful home for all three of them. 

Before duty began, Jim and Bones lazed around the bedroom in various states of undress while Spock showered. When he stepped out of the bathroom, naked but for the small towel wrapped around his waist Bones let out a wolf whistle. Spock looked to the ceiling in a Vulcan’s approximation of an eye roll. Not to be outdone, when the towel fell to the floor Jim let out a loud _whoop_. Each encouraged by the other, Jim and Bones continued to cheer out their appreciation, and when Spock pulled on his pants, their shouts and applause turned into booing. 

“Why cover a perfect ass like that?” 

A blush had crept up Spock's neck, all the way up to the tips of his ears. He spun on his heel, still shirtless, spurring another round of hoots and hollers. 

“The two of you are incorrigible.” Blindly, he reached for a blue shirt from the shared closet space. He pulled it over his head to a chorus of mutterings that fell silent for just a moment when the shirt stopped too short, leaving several inches of pale skin bare. 

“You could at least ask before stealing my clothes,” Bones quipped with a laugh. 

“Commander, I do believe we should speak to the quartermaster about turning all of your uniform shirts into crop tops,” Jim nearly purred as he stood and ran a finger over the trail of hair that dipped deliciously under his waistband. “What do you think, Doctor?” He spun around to face Bones, and pressed his back against Spock. 

Before McCoy could answer, Spock began to wrap his arms around Jim’s midsection, pressing a hand into the soft skin. “An illogical choice of clothing. However for the sake of uniformity, all senior officers would have to wear cropped shirts as well. Including the captain,” 

Jim giggled and it was Bones’s turn to roll his eyes good-naturedly. 

The bosun’s whistle startled them all and Lieutenant Crerah’s voice came over the comm panel. “Captain, the Kai‘reel’s commander is demanding to speak with you. He says changes are to be made about how you and the party will beam down,” 

Jim acknowledged the message and allowed Spock to kiss the top of his head before detangling from his arms so they could all finish dressing in silence. 

“Bridge,” Jim said to the turbolift. Once it began to move he turned to Bones. “You’re not going to medbay?”

“Nah, I have a few minutes before duty starts and I want to see what this jackass has to say.” He smiled wryly before bouncing on his toes and adding “And besides, I’m sleeping with my commanding officers. What are they gonna do, fire me?” 

Jim laughed and Spock suppressed a grin. The bond between them all hummed with affection. 

When the door hissed open in front of them, they all dropped into their veneers of professionalism. Spock relieved the science officer on duty and Jim sat in the captain’s chair while Crerah filled him in on what little the commander would tell her. He glanced quickly at Spock, and felt the gentle pressure of Bones’s hand on his shoulder from behind him, and told Crerah to put the commander on screen. 

“Commander, I thought this was to be an easy meeting- preliminary discussions of joining the federation. Now I’m told that’s changing. I hope that was a miscommunication,” 

“Miscommunication indeed,” the commander said as if that should ease all of his worries. “We are simply asking- for security’s sake of course- that you beam down just outside the city’s border and we will have someone retrieve you. We would like to keep the exact coordinates of our meeting hall classified until we are accepted into your Federation,” 

Jim tried to contain his irritation as alpha shift spilled out of the turbolift and quietly relieved their counterparts and whispered questions and explanations filled the bridge. 

“You must understand, Captain. Without these terms, we will not meet,” 

“Of course,” Jim responded somewhat sarcastically, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Send the coordinates to my engineer and we will meet your team there at the appointed time. Unless that changed too?” 

He assured Jim that it hadn’t, and the feed was cut. A moment of silence fell on the bridge as Jim considered all the possible ways it could go wrong. Along the bond, he could feel Bones worrying and Spock trying to soothe his fears like whispers spoken across the room. He did his best to plug up his own end of the bond so they would not feel his anxieties. 

“I don’t like it,”

“You don’t have to like it, Bones. The Federation wants them, so if the commander wants me to sing and dance, I better put on a performance of a lifetime,”

He opened his mouth to argue, but was called to sickbay and left in a huff. 

Trying to focus on the mission at hand, he stood by Spock’s station to ask “Mr. Spock, what’s stopping us from discovering the coordinates as soon as we’re inside with our tricorders or with the _Enterprise_ tracking us from orbit?”

“There appears to be a shield protecting the city. We cannot get readings from inside, and likely our technology will not work once within the shield’s limits. It will also likely prevent us from beaming anywhere into or out of the city as long as it is active,” 

“Doctor McCoy is right,” Chekov grumbled from his station, “I do not like this,” 

“Mr. Chekov, you are more than welcome to lodge your complaint with Starfleet command, but in the meantime, you all have duties to attend to before Mr. Spock and I beam down, I suggest you do them,” 

A yeoman handed him a PADD with the appropriate forms to fill out. Before long, they were achieving orbit and he and Spock made their way to the transporter room. Bones had beat them there. 

“At least bring some phasers,” he said without preamble as soon as they walked through the door. 

“Bones, come on.” He was getting impatient. 

“It was part of Starfleet’s original agreement that we be unarmed.” Spock cut in before an argument could begin, “They have been attacked during peace talk meetings in the past.” He knew that they both hated being angry with each other, but were often both too stubborn to apologize or admit they were wrong. 

“I know I just-” Bones sighed, “All I can do when both of you are gone is worry,”

Jim held his face in his hands, irritation forgotten. “There’s nothing to worry about, babe. It’s just a quick meeting and then we’ll be back,” 

“You better be,” 

Jim grinned and kissed him softly, and turned to the transporter pad. Spock reached out two fingers toward Bones, which he met with two of his own. 

They beamed down, but no planet side transportation team was in sight. Jim hailed the _Enterprise_ who confirmed the coordinates, and attempted to contact the commander. While they waited, Jim spotted a flower and decided he wanted to give it to Bones with his apologies for losing his temper. 

As he held it up to his nose to sniff it, a loud sound was heard from overhead. Before he even had time to look up, Spock’s hand was between Jim’s shoulder blades, shoving him out of the way. He hit his head on the way down, knocking himself unconscious. When he woke, Spock was sprawled out, bruised and bleeding, a large rock in his hand. A sticky blue substance that Jim could only assume was the blood of a native animal was sprayed across Spock’s arms, and a trail led off into a cave. His communicator chirped frantically from the ground several feet away. 

He flicked it open and tired to speak but nothing would come out but sobs. He managed to croak out a single word, _Bones_. The crew would know what that meant. He pulled Spock’s head into his lap and swept the hair from his forehead. Spock groaned, but clearly wasn’t conscious. Jim was dizzy and nauseous, but he whispered nonsense to Spock’s body anyway, just in case. He begged him to stay, and reminded him of the love both he and Bones held for him. He traced his fingers down his jawline, up his ear, gently across his cool lips. 

After what felt like hours, but was likely moments, he felt the telltale signs of being transported, but still refused to let go of Spock. The ship appeared around him, and an ensign tried to separate them, but he just held tighter. It wasn’t until Bones, voice gentle and tender, said his name and put a hand on his back that he allowed Spock to be pulled from his lap. 

He followed after the mad procession that carried Spock on an anti-grav gurney to sickbay. Bones barked out orders and injected hypos as they moved. This man was no longer Bones- husband, lover, and bondmate- this was Doctor McCoy. The best goddam doctor in the whole federation. 

At the door to the surgical suite, Bones called over his shoulder, “Jim, have Nurse Hine check you out, and do what they say, I’ll call you the second I’m done. Hine, Chapel’s with me, so you’re in charge out here. Surgery could be a while,” 

“Len,” Jim cried softly. A tremor of pain rippled across Bones’s face- perhaps a side effect of the bond linking all three of them, or perhaps simply hearing the nickname Jim only used in moments of tenderness, ”I can’t stay out here.” His voice cracked on his words. 

“Darlin’, please. I don’t have time,”

“I know, I know. I-” He tried to keep himself together, “-I love you. Both of you.” His eyes flickered to Spock, broken and small. 

“Get some rest if you can.” He grabbed hold of Jim’s hand for just a second then turned back to the surgical suite. The door swished closed between them, but he could still hear McCoy’s orders. 

He wandered over to Nurse Hine and allowed them to take a few scans before diagnosing the concussion, and recommending resting in his quarters. 

He tried to make his way to his quarters, but his feet knew better, and he ended up on the bridge and relieving Scotty of command. As long as he could focus on being captain, at least part of his brain wasn’t fully devoted to picturing Spock, still and open, and Bones with hands buried deep, doing everything he could to save him. It took all the willpower Jim could muster to keep himself seated in the Captain's chair when his mind was five decks away where he had left Spock in McCoy’s steady hands. He forced himself to remember how many times Bones had pulled a miracle from certain death. Without Bones, both he and Spock would be dead a hundred times over. Bones was a miracle worker. 

Messages came in from the planet below- assurances that this was purely accidental. The transport team had been held up by a microstorm, not uncommon to that region, but still too dangerous to drive through. They arrived at the rendezvous site just moments after Scotty had pulled them away. The creature had died after slinking off, but all Jim could think of was how devastated Spock would be to know that he had killed it. When the commander asked when Jim would be beaming back down, he couldn’t help it, he laughed and said they would not be beaming back down and they could contact Starfleet if they had a problem with that. Uhura cut the feed, but not before they heard the commander spluttering in shock. 

After that, messages from Starfleet flooded in. He tuned out the lecturing admirals and made clear that he would not be beaming back down. He reminded them that the best science officer in the fleet was in surgery because of the mishandling of the situation, and if Spock died (his voice cracked over the word, but managed to continue without pausing) he would hold everyone who had a hand in this mission personally responsible. 

Duty shift ended, and he was forced back to quarters by the looks of pity thrown his way in the corridors and the mess hall. He tried to curl into himself in their bed, but it was too big and cold and empty by himself. He pulled himself up and began pacing the room like a cheetah in a cage, occasionally picking up treasured possessions. A mug Joanna made, a copy of pre-Surakian poetry, annotated in Spock’s careful hand, a holo of the three of them on their bonding day. 

Hours passed without news and the pain was nearly unbearable before the comm panel chirped and Bones’s hoarse, tired voice said, “He’s gonna be fine. Why don’t you come on down,” 

He tried to keep his cool in the corridor, but every bone in his body wanted to sprint, to shove people out of his path. Perhaps they saw this in his face or simply knew where he was going, because they parted down the center to make way for him. He finally reached sick bay and was about to enter post-op when Nurse Hine caught his attention. 

“He’s in his office.” they gestured to the door, “He said if you try to see Commander Spock before you see him, he’ll file for divorce,” 

Humor. That was a good sign. He thanked them and burst into the office, questions bubbling at his lips. But Bones wasn’t at his usual spot behind the desk. Jim spun on his heel to find him, when he spotted him slumped over on the small leather loveseat. He still wore his surgical scrubs, splattered in Spock’s blood. It had taken Jim less than two minutes to reach sickbay from their quarters, but already, Bones was sound asleep. 

He pressed a kiss to his forehead before moving back into sickbay to gather a few things. Gently, he tugged the blood soaked gloves from his hands, and used a wet towel to wipe the blood from Bones’s face and arms. He started trying to wrestle the scrubs over his head. Bones grumbled and shifted under his manhandling. 

“Come on, babe, arms up.” There was more gumbling, but he complied and allowed the shirt to slip over his head, and a fresh t-shirt to replace it. He tucked him into a blanket and kissed his forehead again. “You still gonna divorce me if I go see Spock now?” 

“No, go ahead. But if you wake him up, I really will,” he answered without even opening his eyes. 

“I believe it. You gonna come back to quarters tonight?”

He shook his head. “Gotta stay close just in case,” 

“When I come back in, I’ll set up a cot, alright? I’ll stay here with you.” Bones nodded, eyes still sealed shut, but Jim smiled at him anyway. 

In post-op, Spock lay still, but even in the low lighting, he could see the rise and fall of his chest. 

“I do hope you have checked with the doctor before coming here. I was not fully conscious, but I believe I heard talk of divorce should you not see him first,”

Jim couldn’t help it- he laughed. The relief of knowing they were all safe flooded his system. He grabbed Spock’s hand in his own and placed a kiss on his knuckles, too afraid to touch anywhere else. 

“You seem to be more alert than he is right now,”

“Indeed. The surgery was quite long, and I imagine the emotional toll of performing on a loved one increases the total level of exhaustion,” 

“I imagine you’re right. I’ve only been fretting and I’m exhausted,”

“Jim I would like to apologize to both you and Leonard. I did not intentionally put you or myself into harm’s way, however I did not believe that you had seen the attacking animal, and did not think you would have been capable of fending it off,”

“That’s quite the vote of confidence from my husband and first officer,” Jim teased. “We’re getting the hell out of here. Starfleet will send someone else and they’ll make sure they’re safe this time. You and I can fill out our reports tomorrow.” He punctuated his statement with a yawn. 

“Jim, you should get some sleep. I am well, and will be here when you wake,”

“I suppose you’re right. But you get some sleep too. I want you in peak condition tomorrow. We’re all sleeping in our bed tomorrow night and I won’t hear any guff from either of you. ” Spock suppressed a smile and held out his two fingers and Jim met them in the middle in a vulcan kiss. 

He turned back to the office and finally felt like he could breathe. Spock was fine and would likely be demanding to be let out of sickbay for duty in the morning, and Bones was exhausted but safe. The mental toll of the day had finally settled on him and all he wanted was to curl up between his husbands and feel their bodies pressed against his own as they slept. 

He realized how much work it would take to set up a cot and move Bones, and decided against the whole thing. He stretched out on one end and pulled Bones to his chest. He immediately snuggled in and clung to Jim like a lifeline. 

He petted Bones’s hair and whispered soothingly to him. He tried to project his love across both branches of their bond and hoped it worked. Neither he nor Bones had quite gotten the hang of bond communication, but the way Bones sighed in his sleep, and Spock’s return of the feeling made him think that maybe it had been received.


End file.
